Same Time, Next Year
by Miss Selah
Summary: By 700, he began to wish for death.


Title: Same time, Next Year

Author: Miss Selah

Summary: By 700, he began to wish for death

A/N: More of the same. A bunch of stuff that was unposted that I had on a floppy disk.

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At the age of six, Chase Young was an orphan.

His parents hadn't died easily, nor was it forgivable. Both monks, his parents had been killed mercilessly with out bothering to fight back. After all, Shioalin monks believed that violence was worse than death. Chase, however, did not agree.

At seven, he swore his revenge.

At ten, he began to wonder what his purpose was. He scoured the countryside, looking for any clues as to who killed his parents.

At twelve, he forgot their faces.

When he was fourteen, he stumbled in to a Xiaolin Temple, for he had heard rumors that the monks who practiced martial artshad been killing the murders of their brethern, the Shiaolin monks.

At fifteen, he swore an oath and donned a sash.

At sixteen, he got his revenge.

When he was twenty, he was widely known as one of the strongest warriors in the world, second only to his ally, Master Guan.

At twenty one, he swore to defeat him.

He met one Hannibal Roy Bean when he was twenty five. "Drink this." The bean had beckoned, offering him soup of the foulest orgins. "And all your enemies shall fall before you."

Chase Young was twenty six when he stormed the Xiaolin temple, and had nearly demanded the head of his former ally.

It wasn't until Chase was two hundred before he began to feel the boredom of immortality.

He had taken lovers, condemned the holy, murdered the innocent, and wrecked havoc on an otherwise Utopian society. He had fought along side of Alexander the Great, been the personal bodyguard of Atilla the Hun, and read the book of Revelations excessively.

And in the darkest pits of his being, an ache of loneliness began to consume him.

When Chase Young turned three hundred, he devoted himself to building the perfect sancutary.

When he was five hundred, and his haven was long since made, the loneliness began to pry away at what little humanity he had left.

At seven hundred, he began to wish for death.

It wasn't until he was twelve hundred years old that he developed a masochistic desire to find someone to defeat him.

And when he was fourteen hundred, he began to hear the rumors.

"Did you hear?" One villager would say to another, and Chase would listen on with unstrained ears.

"Hear what?" Would answer village idiot number two, who would be doing something very peasant – y, making Chase wonder why they even thought that life was worth living.

"They say that soon, on the day of the solar eclipse, a child is supposed to be born who will save the world."

Chase paused, and gave some thought to this. It was impossible not to think in metaphors. . . the day of the solar eclispe was the day of the Hylien eclipse. . . when he would be at his weakest.

He began to search. He scoured every Xiaolin temple he could find, looking for expectant mothers. But while the rumor was too symbolic to ignore, it was far too vague to follow up on.

He was Fifteen hundred when he began to think that there must have been a mistake.

But in three months, the shrill cries of a baby pierced the air, as Chase lay sick, sweating and shivering, in his sancutary.

In five years, he forgot the rumor, and began to hunt once again for the warrior who could defeat him.

He was fifteen hundred and sixteen when he first saw Omi.

At first, he didn't pay much attention to the tiny monk. But then, something struck him. Whether it was with a movement or a breath, Chase wasn't sure. But he knew, looking in to those almond slanted eyes of his enemy, that this was the one who would save the world.

That this is the one who would finally let him rest.

"Now, little one." He said, rubbing his soft, shaved head. "We fight."

For a year, he tempted and teased and manipulated, using all of his wisdom and knowledge against the innocent little monk.

He had corrupted the Pope, but Omi remained just out of his grasp.

But one day, after they had fought again, Omi walked up to him, and kneeled. "I don't understand." He confessed, and sat against him.

And Chase had let him, because it had been so long since he felt such companionship he didn't remember what it was. "Do you need to?"

A week later, Chase was buried.

Omi was the only one who put flowers on his grave.


End file.
